Three Acts
by painfulclarity
Summary: The beginning, the middle, and the end of Remus and Sirius' relationship. Part 2 posted.
1. The Beginning

Remus/Sirius, set pre-Prank, during fifth year. I don't own the characters and all that jazz.

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**Three Acts**

**_The Beginning_**

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It all began with hot breath on his lips and blurred blue eyes above his and a low husky voice saying, "Thanks, mate, I owe you one."

Remus managed an unclear, burbling reply, and went promptly back to sleep. The next morning, James woke him up and looked disapproving. "You should stop sleeping in here," he told Remus, gesturing at the common room as Remus sat up, yawning. "For Christ's sake, these sofas are probably covered in first-year germs."

"We were all first-years once," Remus told James, between more yawns. He began to fold up his blanket.

James continued; he was like that. "You've got to stop waiting up for Sirius to come in." He stuck out his chest in some semblance of authority.

"Maybe," Remus agreed, and draped his folded blanket over his arm as he made for the stairs to the dormitory. Behind him, he heard James hiss exasperatedly and start fluffing up cushions with an unnecessary amount of force. Halfway up the stairs, Remus knocked on the boys' bathroom door. "Anyone in there?"

"I'll be out in a minute," he heard Sirius' voice shout. Remus continued up to the dormitory to deposit his blanket and collect his shower things. As he reached the bathroom again, Sirius came out, hair wet and plastered to his head and dripping onto his white school shirt.

"Thanks for waiting for me last night," he said to Remus, resting a hand gently on his arm. His fingers were still wet.

Remus shrugged. "That's all right."

"You don't have to."

"I said, it's all right."

Sirius smiled tentatively. "Good."

"Who were you with, last night, anyway?" Remus shifted his weight to his left foot.

"Anna. She's a Ravenclaw," Sirius explained.

"Of course," Remus said. "She's in my Arithmancy class."

"That's the one," Sirius agreed. He was still holding onto Remus' arm, and appeared to suddenly realise it. He let it drop, and looked away, suddenly reddening. "Well, I'll see you at breakfast, then."

"Yeah. See you at breakfast," Remus replied.

Sirius smiled again, quickly, and began to run up to the dormitories, swabbing at his wet hair with a towel. Remus went into the bathroom. Its windows were all steamed up and he could see faint outlines on the mirror where Sirius had drawn smiley faces in the mist with his finger. It smelt like Sirius' shower gel, which wasn't really a surprise but still, Remus sniffed it appreciatively. It was a good smell, and reminded him of friendship and trust and the way Sirius shook back his hair casually to keep it out of his eyes.

Remus wondered for a moment why he was still thinking of Sirius, and turned on the shower. He had to wait for a couple of moments for the water to warm up, and then stepped under it. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His scar was shining as if there was silver under his skin, a ridged area of raised flesh over his chest that was, he thought, incredibly unattractive. He was still very wary of taking off his shirt in front of the other boys, and had only ever swam in the lake with them while wearing a t-shirt to protect himself, so he said, from sunburn. He ran his fingers over the scar. It went from just below his left collarbone to above his right nipple, and he hated it. Not that he wasn't covered in other scars, pinkish lines up and down his arms and over his back where he'd scratched himself, but the one across his chest, where the wolf had bitten him, was by far the worst.

He shuddered, and began to wash his hair.

===

That night, Sirius didn't have any dates for Remus to stay up and wait for. He didn't quite know why he'd delegated that task to himself, waiting for Sirius to get back, huddled up under a blanket in the common room, but he had, and he was used to it by now, and he'd learnt how to sleep with oddly-shaped cushions jabbing him in the back.

Instead, the four of them played Exploding Snap, and then had a chess tournament. Peter was humiliatingly defeated by Sirius, and Remus just about beat James, so the two of them went head-to-head and sat around a chessboard until two o'clock in the morning, when Sirius' queen went on strike because she needed her beauty sleep.

"I was winning, though," Sirius insisted to Remus as they went upstairs, who shook his head.

"That's blatantly untrue," he pointed out. "I'd taken both your knights and I was about to take your queen before she got all huffy."

They'd reached the dormitories, and Sirius stalked in and threw himself onto his bed.

"Who won?" James demanded sleepily.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at Remus. "It was unresolved."

Remus thought of other things that had happened through the evening, like the way their fingers had touched accidentally, and how the firelight fell on Sirius' hair, and how they'd laughed, and said, "Yeah, it was unresolved."

===

The next morning, Remus awoke to find a large black dog licking his face. Understandably, this was somewhat of a surprise, and he scrambled away from it, and said loudly, "Oh my God, there's a dog in my bed!" The dog smiled at him – now it was _smiling_? How the hell did dogs _smile_? – and was suddenly Sirius. Remus scrambled backwards away from him. "Oh my God, there's a Sirius in my bed!"

Sirius poked him. "Don't be stupid, Remus, did you like it?"

"Did I like _what_?"

"Me! The dog!"

"It was wonderful, Sirius, I—" Remus began blandly, and then blinked. "Wait, you were the _dog_?"

Sirius nodded, a delirious smile on his face.

"How?" Remus managed.

"I'm an Animagus!" Sirius squawked. "I woke up early and I was lying in bed wondering if I'd be able to do it and then suddenly I decided to try it, and then I was a dog! What was I like, was I fearsome and scary?"

Remus thought about it. "You were more… _licky_."

"Well," Sirius said. "Is that a good thing?"

"I've got your spit all over my face. It's debatable."

"Oh." Sirius looked crestfallen for a moment, and then there was the sound of stamping footsteps and James put his head between Remus' curtains. His hair was even wilder than normal and he wasn't wearing his glasses, so an uninviting squint had taken their place.

"Will you two keep it down? I'm trying to sleep!" he demanded.

Remus prudently did not mention the numerous mornings when he'd been woken up by loud explosions from James' corner of the room.

Sirius was grinning again. "Guess what, Jamesy, I can do it!"

"Do what?"

"It! I can turn into a dog!"

James' annoyed face changed suddenly and he flung himself onto Remus' bed as well. It was like a sort of strange party, Remus thought madly, and suppressed a wince as James shifted and elbowed him in the stomach. "You're joking, oh my God! Really?"

"Yeah, I'll show you, two seconds—"

And before Remus' eyes, Sirius' body warped and twisted until he was a large black dog, which began to leap all over Remus, waving its tail so wildly that the whole back part of its body was shaking, and James was roaring excitedly and hugging the dog and saying things like "You've done it, Sirius!"

Remus said, very quietly, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

James turned to face him. "It was going to be a surprise…" he began, and then stopped. "Turn back, Sirius, we can tell him together. I'll go and get Pete."

He disappeared and Remus heard him bounce happily up and down on Peter's bed. The dog turned awkwardly back into Sirius, who removed his body quickly from on top of Remus'. "Isn't it _great_, Moony?" he said eagerly.

"Er," Remus said, feeling entirely confused and bewildered and _why_ did his best friend suddenly have another personality that manifested itself as a large black dog? It was far too early for this, he thought fervently.

"It's for you, Moony, it's all for you—" Sirius was interrupted by James, who'd returned, dragging Peter by the arm.

"Whassappened?" Peter mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Sirius morphed into the dog and back again, and Peter's eyes widened. "I _knew_ you could do it!" he said, breathlessly.

Sirius nodded. "I know, and now you two'll be able to do it soon as well, and—"

"You two are going to be Animagi as well?" Remus said loudly. "But… _why_?"

James looked at the other two boys. "Shall I tell him?" They nodded, and James grinned. "We've been thinking a lot about your transformations recently, ever since we barged in on you in the hospital wing in second year…"

Remus could remember that morning. His friends had stood around the bed, gazing down at him with a mixture of pity and revulsion in their eyes, and when he'd woken up, Sirius had touched his hand, the one that wasn't bandaged, very gently and said, "We know, Remus. We're not stupid. And we don't mind."

"And," James continued, "we saw how much it hurt to be a werewolf, and how you scratched yourself so you didn't hurt anyone else. And we found out that werewolves didn't hurt other animals, just humans. So we decided to help you by being animals."

Remus could feel a lump in his throat, and tears springing to his eyes. He blinked them away very firmly. James was staring at him with a smile of foolish pride, and Peter was rubbing his nose and grinning, and Sirius' hip was against his as he looped an arm around Remus' shoulders and muttered, "Don't cry, silly."

"M'not," Remus insisted, because he wasn't, anymore, and could find no other words. But his friends seemed to understand anyway.

===

The morning after Padfoot had spent the night at the Shrieking Shack was, somehow, much more bearable than normal. Remus woke up in the ramshackle, dusty bed, and the first thing that he saw was Sirius peering anxiously at him. His forehead was blessedly cool and, hazily, he caught sight of the facecloth and bowl of water in Sirius' hands.

"S'time?" Remus muttered, his tongue feeling like cotton wool in his mouth.

Sirius checked his watch, a big gold pocketwatch that his father had given him when he started school. "Nearly seven."

"Pomfrey'll be here soon."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed.

Remus blinked, and more of the room swam into focus. "What happened last night?"

Sirius shrugged. "Well, I was wearing the Cloak and followed you when you were let into the tunnel. Then I transformed into Pads—"

"Pads?"

"It's what James calls the dog. Padfoot, for long. I changed into him right before you transformed." A small crease formed between Sirius' eyebrows. "I never knew it was like that, really. So… well, painful, I suppose. I'm sorry I didn't work harder to be Padfoot sooner. And then you started trying to rip yourself up, it was horrible, so I barked to get your attention. And then you started trying to fight with me, and I rolled over to show you my neck, I don't know how I knew to do that but I did, and the fighting got less violent and more… playful, I s'pose. And whenever you tried to bite yourself and scratch yourself I tried to distract you, by barking or nipping at you or trying to get you to play, and most of the time it worked." He nodded. "And then you started to transform back, and once you were finished I picked you up and put you in the bed because you looked cold."

"Thanks," Remus said quietly. He began to very carefully test his limbs, and discovered that being with Padfoot had worked wonders; his muscles didn't scream nearly as much as they usually did, and the scratches that usually covered his arms and legs weren't nearly as apparent. "It worked," he told Sirius. "A lot."

A very relieved, bright smile spread over Sirius' face. "Really?"

"Really-really. I don't hurt half as much as normal, Pomfrey's going to go mad with curiosity." Remus extended one arm. It ached, of course, but that was expected; the difference was that blood wasn't dribbling from a million gashes, and that he wasn't curled up on the splintered wooden floor. "Thanks, Sirius."

"Any time," Sirius said honestly. "I'm coming back next month."

"Are you sure?"

Sirius' eyes widened. "Of course! You've waited for me all those nights in the common room. I owe you this. Also, I want to do it, if it makes you not hurt so much in the morning."

Remus could feel himself relaxing, and beginning to drift off into slumber. "Thanks, Pads."

"That's all right." Sirius' voice sounded faraway. "And why _do_ you wait for me, anyway?"

Everything was becoming hazy and blurred. "Cause I've got to," Remus murmured. "Just to make sure that none of the girls have had their wicked way with you."

Sirius sounded faintly amused. "And why's that?"

Remus was nearly asleep already when he replied, "Because it's you."

===

As Remus had predicted, Madam Pomfrey was indeed amazed at the changes that had occurred. "Why, you're not half as scratched as normal!" she said, as she stretched a bandage around his ribcage and he grimaced. "Your guardian angels must have been with you last night."

"Yeah," Remus agreed, and suppressed a smile.

===

The next night, which was a Saturday, Sirius didn't have a date. James pretended to have a heart attack and fall out of his chair when Sirius sat down next to Peter on a large, squashy settee.

"What, you're not going out with anyone at the moment?" he asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Nah. Didn't feel like a date tonight."

James struck a position of woe and alack. "Could it be that the original Gryffinwhore has in fact given up shagging?"

Sirius spluttered and swatted at him. "No, of course not! Shut up, James, Lily's looking at you, I think she's finally fallen in love with you."

James' eyes immediately went to Lily, who was in fact staring at him with a look of immense disgust. He pouted his lips at her and fluttered his fingers. She pretended to stick her fingers down her throat, and turned back around to talk to one of her friends.

"It pains me," he complained. "Why won't she ever agree to go out with me?"

Remus hazarded a guess. "Because she's got more than one brain cell?"

James hit him with a cushion. "Shut up, Moony."

"Don't say that name so loudly, you prat, everyone'll realise!"

James looked around, and shrugged. "No one's listening, and anyway, if they did hear, they wouldn't know what I was on about."

"Nothing new there, then," Peter remarked.

James made a noise of concession. "It's not my fault if my amazing and lofty ideas are too complicated for normal human minds to comprehend."

Peter snorted. "Or not."

"Huh." James kicked the low table in front of them lightly. "So now we're all here for once, how did the transformation night go?" He turned his gaze to Remus and Sirius.

Remus glanced over at Sirius, who was letting a foot bounce off the side of the sofa and not looking at anyone. "It went all right," he said, very tentatively.

James' eyebrows rose. "All right? Not better than that?"

"No!" Remus objected. "It went as well as it could have gone. It was… good. Very good."

"Er, okay," James said, looking from Remus to Sirius, who was still studiously not looking at him, and back to Remus again. "So the wolf doesn't attack Animagi?"

"Nope," Remus said. "Apparently not."

Sirius was still sitting there silently and half-ignoring everyone, his arms tightly folded across his chest. James said, "I'm looking forward to when all four of us can go out together at the full moons," slightly desperately.

"Me too," Peter agreed in a high voice.

Sirius stood up and announced, "I'm going up to our room."

When he was gone, James blinked, his brown eyes wide behind his glasses. "What's with _him_?"

Peter shrugged. "Dunno. I think I prefer him as Padfoot, he can't whinge then."

"I agree," James said heartily. "D'you want to play snap? Remus?"

Remus stared at the pack of cards that James was waving under his nose, and shook his head. "Er, no. Thanks. Maybe later, or tomorrow, or something."

"All right," James said good-temperedly. "How about it, Pete?"

Peter nodded, and Remus slowly tuned out, brow furrowed, thinking about Sirius. Suddenly he stood, and began to make his way up to the dormitory, ignoring the plaintive voices of Peter and James behind him.

===

The room was silent, but the curtains on Sirius' bed were only half pulled across. Remus could see his feet, clad in thick, heavy walking boots that were caked with mud, resting on the covers.

"Sirius?" he asked. "You in here?"

No reply, and then he heard a sigh. "Remus, is that you?"

"Yeah. Is it all right if I come in?"

"Suit yourself."

Remus pulled the curtains around Sirius' bed open a little more, and then perched on the side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why?" Sirius was lying down, his hands behind his head, staring resolutely up at the crimson drapes overhead.

"I was just wondering." Remus exhaled heavily. "What was with you downstairs?"

"Nothing," Sirius said, after a pause.

"Are you sure?"

"I said, nothing." Sirius shifted a little, bringing one hand down to rest on his flat stomach. His shirt rose a couple of centimetres, and Remus told himself very sternly to stop looking at that inch of brown skin.

Remus sat in silence for a moment. "So why aren't you out with some girl at the moment?" he finally said.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "I didn't really feel like it."

"Not up for dating at the moment?" Remus asked, a note of laughter in his voice.

"Ha bloody ha, you know as well as I do that I'm _always_ up for dating." There was a note in Sirius' voice that didn't quite ring true.

Remus shrugged. "I know that you were acting like an arsehole just now in the common room."

"I was not!" Sirius said defensively.

There was a pause as Remus Looked at him.

"Well, I was just—oh, I don't know. I didn't mean to act so, y'know, _arseholey_, but I just—I didn't want to talk about that transformation night," Sirius confessed finally, and then glared at Remus. "So, yeah."

"Any particular reason?" Remus made himself slightly more comfortable on the edge of Sirius' bed.

The other boy wriggled uncomfortably. "I just don't want to talk about it, all right?"

The conversation seemed over, and Remus was about to get up when Sirius said, "I just don't want the others to be there. Next time, I mean."

Remus lifted an eyebrow. "What, for the transformation?"

Sirius sighed, and sat up, pulling his t-shirt down. He swatted a shiny lock of black hair out of his eyes. "Well, yeah. I don't know why. It's not because I had _fun_ as such, because I didn't, not really, I was worried about you and me and, well, you know what I mean…" Sirius had a habit of speaking in very confused run-on sentences, Remus noticed detachedly. "But in the morning when it was just us two, it was nice. Not that I don't like being around James and Pete, cause I do, you know that. But I don't ever seem to get to spend any time with just _you_, and, well. As I said before, it was nice." Sirius folded his arms, and pouted, and glared at Remus as if to say that if Remus challenged him, he would be instantly defeated.

Remus felt a sudden wave of relief wash over him. "You're _jealous_?" he heard himself ask, and inwardly kicked himself. It had been the wrong thing to say; Sirius' face was darkening.

"M'not, I'm not jealous," he said, "what do you think I am, some pratty little first-year?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Pads," Remus said softly. "If you want to know the truth, I liked it as well. It _was_ nice, waking up and you being there. I hope it happens more often."

Sirius was gazing at him with a strange sort of intensity and all of a sudden Remus heard his own words replayed in his head, and said, "Er, not like that, don't worry." He laughed, but it sounded false, and Sirius slumped down onto his elbows.

"I'll see you later then," Sirius said. It was a clear dismissal, and Remus nodded.

"Later, then."

===

The next morning (or, more accurately, at three o'clock in the morning), Remus awoke with a large, heavily breathing lump on his legs. He shifted slightly and wondered whether his legs would be contorted into the position of half-folded for the rest of his life or not. Experimentally, he wriggled his toes. The lump shifted, and growled lazily.

"Padfoot?" Remus hissed. "That you?" It had bloody better be Padfoot, he thought darkly. If it wasn't, he'd scream.

The lump began to crawl up next to Remus, who moved a little to his left so it'd have enough room, and whined softly in his ear. The dog's weight was warm, and comforting, and as Remus curled up beside it, he thought hazily that it was getting increasingly hard to remind himself that Sirius and Padfoot were in fact one and the same, and—oh _God_, it was Sirius in his bed.

As if Padfoot had read his mind, suddenly he was gone and there was a Sirius in his place; Remus could only just see him in the dark, but his eyes were glittering and like dark pools in his face, and his hair was wild and sticking-up all over the place. He smelt slightly like Firewhiskey – from James' secret trove, Remus thought knowledgeably. Remus could feel Sirius' heart racing as he pinned him to his bed, strong hands on Remus' shoulders, and said, his face very close to Remus', "I'm not letting you get away that quickly."

Remus said, "Get off me, Sirius. You're pissed, aren't you?" and tried to pretend that he wasn't stretching his arms around Sirius' shoulders and drawing him closer.

"Only a bit," said Sirius, shrugging slightly. His chest was pressed against Remus', body stretched across his, and it was deeply uncomfortable for Remus, as he was much smaller and lighter, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Why're you here?" Remus asked, noticing vaguely that it was getting more and more difficult to breathe.

"Take a guess," Sirius murmured, his teeth white as a wolf's in the dark.

Remus said, "Hmm," because he had what seemed like a million guesses but he was suddenly worried that they were all wrong. Sirius' hair was in his eyes and Remus reached up a hand to tuck it behind his ear. He'd been wondering what it feels like on-and-off over the last few weeks, and it wasn't a disappointment, smooth and silky.

"You smell nice," said Sirius, beginning to burrow his head into Remus' chest and kiss a sloppy trail up his neck. Remus froze for a second and then allowed himself to exhale heavily and jerkily. Every nerve ending on his body appeared to be standing on end as he smoothed his hands roughly up and down Sirius' back, and the other boy's sticky kisses that smell of whiskey approached his mouth.

Finally Sirius kissed him for real, his lips smooth and strangely harder than Remus half-expected, as if his teeth were pushing into them. Remus opened his own mouth obediently for a moment, but then pushed on Sirius' shoulders and broke away, rolling him over so that Remus was sitting quite comfortably with one leg on either side of Sirius' chest. Sirius blinked up at him, blue eyes wide, and grasped at the front of Remus' pyjama jacket to pull him down again.

Sirius' mouth tasted of cigarettes, and Remus dragged himself away again. "When'd you start smoking?" he queried breathlessly.

Sirius shrugged beneath him, messy long hair spread out black against the white pillows, and said, "My mum hates smokers."

That was enough explanation for Remus, who nodded vaguely and began abruptly to kiss Sirius again because the other boy's full lips seemed to be demanding it.

===

There weren't any awkward 'coming out' moments because James pulled open Remus' bedcurtains first thing the next morning to find two of his best friends naked and draped over each other.

He leapt backwards, clapped his hands over his glasses, and shouted, "By Merlin, my _eyes_!"

Remus lifted a sleepy eyelid and was about to berate James for shouting first thing in the morning, but then felt the warmth of Sirius' fingers splayed on his hip, and said "Er," instead.

"Er indeed!" James bellowed.

Beside Remus, Sirius moved slightly. His nose was pressed into Remus' shoulder, his soft hair tickling Remus' skin. "Whassappening, Moony?" he mumbled.

"Er," said Remus again.

From the jolt beside him, Sirius had clearly opened his eyes to see James hovering like an angel of doom over them, his mouth wide in an 'o'. "Oh my God," Sirius said in a strangled voice, which was a strange expression coming from a pureblood, Remus thought detachedly, they usually said something like 'Godric!' or 'Merlin!'

"Close the curtains now, James," Remus said, trying his best to sound detached. He could hear sleepy just-awoken annoyed noises coming from the direction of Peter's bed, and James obediently pulled the curtains across, his face still aghast.

Sirius had his face buried between Remus' shoulderblades and was muttering something that sounded like "Shit fuck bollocking hell…"

Remus twisted around slightly, and said "Are you all right?" in what he hoped was a concerned voice.

Sirius nodded and then shook his head, moaning softly. "Bugger," he said, "I'm hungover. And James saw us, and, oh Merlin…"

Remus flattened his palm against Sirius' forehead. The other boy's skin felt hot, and his eyes looked out-of-focus and bloodshot. He was pale, with a slight tinge of green, and his hair was slightly greasy. Remus thought, oh my God, I _slept_ with him.

"I think I'm going to throw up," Sirius groaned, and suddenly dry-retched, his hand over his mouth.

Remus said, "Well, get the bloody hell out of my bed, then!" which on hindsight probably wasn't the most sensitive thing in the world to say, but it worked, as Sirius staggered out through the curtains and Remus averted his eyes as he heard another horrible retching noise.

He heard Peter say, "That's disgusting, Sirius!" and James reply, "Not as disgusting as what _I_ just saw," in a dark voice.

Remus threw himself back down onto his bed, which felt slightly empty now Sirius wasn't in it, and covered his eyes.

===

Over breakfast, Peter and James wouldn't stop staring at him.

Remus buttered his toast silently and, when they still hadn't stopped, said "_What_?" in an irritable voice.

James shook his head and said, "I can't _believe _it."

He appeared to have got over his earlier disapproval, and was caught between awe and intrigue. Peter seemed slightly confused, but accepting.

"So, you fancy boys then?" James asked, after Remus made no response to his previous statement.

"So it would appear," Remus said lightly, and took a bite of toast. Sirius hadn't appeared for breakfast, preferring to spread himself over the toilet bowl and moan quietly, and Remus felt strangely loath to say anything without him there.

James nodded. "Right, then." He was still staring at Remus, who decided to ignore him. After a pause, he shrugged and turned away, presumably to pester Lily, who was sitting opposite him and trying to pretend she hadn't noticed he was there.

Peter blinked and turned away from Remus. "There's only marmalade with bits in," he observed. "I bloody _hate_ marmalade with bits in. Stuff like orange juice and marmalade, they're made instantly evil when they've got bits in. It's unnatural."

Silently, Remus passed him the other kind of marmalade, the sort without bits in. Peter said approvingly, "Good, the normal stuff. Thanks."

Remus said, "That's all right," and then grinned. "Thanks, Pete."

Peter winked at him. "S'okay. And anyway, I've known what's going on for _ages._"

Remus choked on his toast. "But nothing's _been_ going on!"

"Sirius hasn't just been meeting girls, you know," Peter said airily. "There was that Gideon Prewitt from the year below, and I think he had a very brief thing with Rastaban Lestrange…"

"A _Slytherin_! But Sirius hates Slytherins!"

"Even I can admit that Rastaban's got a very nice arse, and as I'm as straight as the next man. Except, obviously, when you are the next man, which you appear to be at this moment in time," Peter said fairly.

Remus conceded. "Perhaps. But still, I didn't know any of this…"

Peter looked slightly puzzled. "How? I thought you waited up for him at night."

"I did! I mean, I do. But I thought I was waiting up for him to get back from dates with _girls_, not boys." Remus felt thoroughly flustered.

"Sometimes you were," Peter said cryptically. "He's been dating around a lot, you know that." He looked away for a moment, and then concentrated on spreading the bit-less marmalade over his toast as he said, "I think he's been waiting for the right person."

"Oh," Remus said, and frowned. There was a pause. "D'you think he's found him now?" he finally ventured.

Peter looked up and flashed him a genuine smile. "I reckon you two are going to be fine."

From just down the table, Remus heard Lily screech, "No, James Potter, you vile beast, for the last time, I'm _not_ going to show you my bra, even if you _can_ tell via x-ray vision that it's red and lacy! Which, just so you know, it's not!"

James slid back down the bench, slightly abashed, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. "It was worth a try, right?" he said.

Remus said, "Probably."

James ruffled his hair, making it stick up even more wildly than before, and fell upon a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. Remus hoped, vaguely, that everything would soon return to normal.

===

When he returned to the common room to collect his books for Transfiguration and Arithmancy, Sirius was curled in a corner of a sofa, looking pale and wan.

"How do you feel?" Remus asked, remembering that the last time he'd seen him, Sirius had been pleading with everyone to go to breakfast and let him die alone, which they had.

Sirius shrugged, a narrow shoulder lifting. "Bit better, I suppose. I never knew hangovers could be as bad as that."

"You've been drunk before," Remus pointed out.

Sirius frowned. "Not _that_ drunk."

"Hmm," Remus conceded, and then felt a sudden pang of lurching fear tug at him. "Exactly how much do you remember of last night?"

Sirius shrugged weakly. "Snatches, I suppose. Not everything, but some stuff, I, I don't know really…"

"Ah," Remus said vaguely, feeling suddenly as if something very important had been taken from him. "All right," he said, in a voice that somehow didn't seem to sound like his. "I need to be off to Transfiguration."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, as if he'd thought better of it. Finally he said, sounding tired, "I'll see you later then, Moony."

"Yeah," said Remus, still in that strange hollow voice, "later."

===

"You fancy him then," said Peter.

"Well, yeah," Remus answered, honestly. "But he can't remember, Pete, he can't sodding _remember_. So what's the bloody point?"

On the other side of the sofa, James bashed his head into his Transfiguration textbook and muttered, "I can't believe I'm friends with nancy-boys!"

"Oh, you knew it all along," Peter told him comfortably.

James looked aghast for a moment, and then shrugged. "Well, yes."

Peter returned his attention back to Remus. "He _does_ fancy you, you know."

Remus screwed up his nose. "I bet he doesn't," he said darkly, "I bet this is all an evil ploy to get me to say, yeah, I fancy Sirius, so you lot can all laugh at me."

Peter frowned. "We wouldn't do that. Well," he continued after a pause, "_I_ wouldn't do that. And I don't reckon Sirius would go that far with a prank. Specially not against you."

"He did go rather far," Remus agreed miserably, and tried to shake away the memory of Sirius' warm lips on his own.

"Wow, _that_ was too much information," said James brightly.

"Sorry," said Remus, even more dejectedly.

James sighed, and moved up a few inches, so his shoulder was pressing into Remus'. "You know I'm just making fun of you, right?" he said frankly. "I know I piss around sometimes but I do just want you to be happy, you and Sirius."

Remus exhaled loudly. "Thanks, James. But I just don't know, all right? I don't know anymore."

James was gazing across the common room at a red-haired figure as he said, sounding uncharacteristically serious, "I know what you mean. I really do."

"She'll go out with you one day," Peter told him kindly.

"I know," James said confidently. "But why must she keep _torturing_ me like this? Should I ask her out again? Yeah, I think I will."

"Don't," Remus advised him.

"I think I will," James repeated, a sudden manic smile on his lips. He raised his voice. "Oi, Evans, will you go out with me?"

She shouted back, "I'd rather eat your glasses!"

"That could be arranged," James called.

Lily made a disgusted noise. "That didn't even make sense, you pathetic excuse for a human being!"

James turned back to Peter and Remus. "She didn't agree," he reported to them.

"Maybe if you stopped calling her 'Evans'," Remus suggested peacefully.

James frowned and pushed his glasses back up his nose. "That'd take the thrill out of our relationship, wouldn't it?"

"Hmm." Remus decided to tactfully not mention that Peter and the Giant Squid had a more fulfilling relationship than James and Lily.

"But back to you," James said, leaning forwards confidentially towards Remus. He paused expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what?" Remus said.

"What are you going to _do_?" James asked.

Remus slumped backwards, his head in his hand. "That's the thing, you see. I don't know. I really bloody don't know."

===

The next night, Remus woke very early with Padfoot curled on his feet again. He wriggled his toes until the dog woke up, sniffing disgruntledly, and crawled up the bed towards him. Padfoot rested his head on Remus' chest, who thought vaguely, _No one could ever believe he's a real dog. His eyes are too blue._

Remus reached out a hand and gently scratched Padfoot behind his ears. The dog nipped gently at his wrist, and closed his eyes. Remus said drowsily, "Good dog," and went back to sleep.

When he woke in the morning, Padfoot had transformed back into Sirius. He was sleeping quietly, one hand underneath Remus' pillow and messy black hair falling across his face, clad only in pyjama bottoms. The skin of his chest looked very smooth and golden, and Remus could remember only too well how it felt to run his fingers over it. For a moment Remus' hand hovered over a thick lock of dark hair, but Remus snatched it away. Another day, perhaps. Another lifetime.

He got up, careful not to wake Sirius, and decided to have a shower.

===

Remus scrutinised his chin in the mirror above the sink, and wondered if he would have to shave that day. No such luck, and he felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment as he turned off the running water. The bathroom was humid, and old pictures that had been drawn on the mirror in the steam had resurfaced. Remus ran a finger around the outline of a smiley face with a speech bubble saying 'SIRIUS = SEX' and felt he had to agree.

He picked up his wet towel from the floor and draped the bathmat over the edge of the bath. When he opened the door to leave, there was an aggressive figure half leaning over the doorframe, bright blue eyes flashing indignantly.

"Hello," said Remus, somewhat redundantly.

Sirius jabbed a finger into his chest and pushed him backwards into the bathroom. "Where'd you go?" he demanded.

"To shower," Remus answered, which was true.

"You could've woken me up, Moony," said Sirius sadly. "You could've at least said good morning or _something_."

"Sorry."

Sirius' face seemed very close to his all of a sudden, so it was no surprise when the other boy growled frustratedly and mashed his lips against Remus'. There was an unfortunate clash of teeth and Remus could tell that Sirius hadn't brushed his yet; nonetheless, he kissed back just as fervently, his hands clamped to either side of Sirius' head as he drank him in like sunlight.

Sirius pulled away, half-gasping, and said fiercely, "I won't forget this, I _couldn't_," and Remus knew that he was telling the truth. Moonlight and starlight, melded together like some excruciating rainbow that broke the sky with its brightness, and Sirius was clinging to him and his heart was beating a frantic rhythm that was perfectly in tune with Remus' own.

TBC.


	2. The Middle

Guess what, I still don't own the characters. This is part 2/3, and much less fluffy than the first part.

* * *

****

**Three Acts**

_**The Middle**_

* * *

Remus was asleep when Sirius got home, which was nothing unusual. He'd settled down on the sofa with his large blanket and hot chocolate and begun to wait for Sirius, although he wasn't holding out much hope that he'd be home before three – he hadn't, any other night, and there was no reason to believe that tonight would be any different.

Sirius lurched in at exactly 3:13, in the exaggerated manner of someone who thinks he isn't drunk but most decidedly is.

"S'just me, Moony," he whispered loudly. "Just me!"

Remus opened a sleepy eye. "You're late _again_," he complained.

"Sorry, I went out with some of the blokes from work and it got a bit heated, y'know…" Sirius sniffed loudly and threw himself down onto the sofa beside Remus, grasping at a bit of blanket and pulling it over himself. The smell of cigarette smoke was clinging to his hair, and his leather jacket was cold against Remus' bare arms.

"Yeah, I know," Remus said, despite the fact that he didn't. Twenty-one and without a decent job; it didn't bode well. He hated to admit it, but it was Sirius who kept him off the streets, with his inheritance from his uncle and his well-paid Auror job. He had to admit that he knew nothing about going out for a drink with colleagues and losing track of the time, seeing as he'd never been at a job long enough to make friends with the other workers.

Sirius snuggled up against him, head resting messily on Remus' shoulder, hair wild and up Remus' nose. He wrinkled it and swatted the hair away, unable to resist combing his fingers over Sirius' messy black head. "Tired, Pads?" he asked softly.

Sirius nodded and then yawned widely. "You going to bed, Moony?"

"Yeah, if you'll come with me."

"Course I will," Sirius said, "'M tired."

Remus stood, and Sirius blinked up at him. "Help me up?" he asked.

"Sure." Remus extended a hand and helped to heave Sirius up off the sofa. He half-toppled upwards and righted himself, laughing breathlessly.

"Like a fucking rollercoaster, eh, Moony?" he said, his breath warm and whisky-scented on Remus' cheek.

"Yeah," Remus agreed, with only a tinge of bitterness. "A giant fucking rollercoaster."

Sirius began to lurch towards the bedroom, still shaky. Remus wondered vaguely if his legs were about to give way, and looped himself under Sirius' arm just in case. Finally he was deposited onto the bed, and lay flat on his back as Remus undid his laces and tugged off his boots.

"It's a clear night tonight," Sirius told him absently as Remus worked on the laces of his left boot. "S'weird, really, in London, the sky's usually foggy, but tonight it was nice… all velvety, like you could fly up and stroke it…"

"Well, it's often like that in the summer, isn't it, Pads?" Remus asked abstractedly as he finally yanked the left boot off. "Sit up." He helped Sirius out of his jacket and slung it across a chair, glancing out of the window. Sirius was right; it _was_ a clear night, and there was a chilly breeze drifting along on the summer air. He pulled down the window and let it fall with a thud, feeling suddenly exhausted. The moon was waxing, it'd be full next week… he sighed quietly, and said, "You feeling all right?"

"Fine, fine…" Sirius mumbled as he burrowed into his pillow. Just to be certain, Remus went into the kitchen and grabbed a bucket; most people had either pukey or headachy hangovers, and Sirius tended to chuck up when he'd been out on a bender. Remus didn't fancy having to clear up puke the next morning.

Finally Remus climbed into bed beside Sirius; the other man was already asleep, and curled instinctively closer to him. Remus stretched out on his back, hands behind his head, and thought, when the war's over. When the war's over, this will all be all right again. When the war's over and Sirius isn't so stressed and Lily and James and Harry are out of danger, he'll stop drinking and coming home as late and it'll be just like before. Just like before.

His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that he wished he could convince himself.

===

The next morning, Remus wandered barefoot into the kitchen to find Sirius already there, drooped over a bowl of cereal, his cigarette dripping ash onto the lino on the floor. When he saw Remus enter, he held up the cigarette as a sort of salute.

"Morning, Moony," he said, the words only sounding slightly heavy and laboured.

"Morning, Pads," Remus said, and stifled a yawn. "How're you feeling?"

Sirius made a sour face. "Like shit. I'm disgustingly hungover, don't come near me."

"Ah, right." Remus began to slice bread. "What time did you get up?"

Sirius shrugged. "Dunno, I was too busy throwing up to look at a clock. I'd say seven-ish."

"Nice," Remus said dryly.

"Mmm, very much so. What time did I get in last night?" Sirius took a long drag of his cigarette and looked enquiringly at Remus over the wreath of smoke that followed.

"Er, about quarter past three, I think."

"That's late. Sorry."

"That's all right." Remus thought that he seemed to spend most of his life listening to Sirius apologising and telling him it was all right.

"You didn't wait up, did you?"

"Yeah, but it was okay." Remus shrugged. "I'm used to it by now."

"You haven't had to do it since fifth year!" Sirius protested. "No reason for you to start again now."

"Well," Remus pointed out, half-smiling, "I didn't _have_ to do it then. I wanted to. Still do, in fact."

Sirius stubbed the cigarette out and stood, wandering over to Remus' side. "You're too good for me, Moony," he said, peering over Remus' shoulder at the bread he was slicing.

Remus grinned. "I know."

Sirius swatted lightly at him, and then seemed to change his mind, draping his arms over Remus' shoulders instead, his hair tickling his ear. His hand covered Remus' as he unwrapped his fingers carefully from around the knife. "Put it down," he breathed, and Remus consented quickly, rolling his head backward to place a swift kiss on the side of Sirius' jaw. He smelt of cigarette smoke and toothpaste and his hands were sliding down the front of Remus' pyjama bottoms measuredly and slowly, taking his time, as if he knew every contour of Remus' body off by heart (which, incidentally, he did). Remus shifted around so he was facing Sirius, who was now gripping the counter, one arm on either side of Remus.

"You're trapped," he whispered, with a hint of a smile.

Remus felt his own lips curve upwards as he said, "Good."

===

Two days later, they went over to James and Lily's house, for Harry's first ever birthday party. After agonising for days, Sirius had bought him a large stuffed lion with a red-and-gold scarf around its neck, and Remus had calmly decided on a soft cloth set of children's books.

James had optimistically decided to have a Muggle-style barbecue, and was hopelessly frazzled when they arrived, hissing, "The sodding burgers won't defrost!" in a desperate sort of voice.

Sirius clapped him on the back and said, "I'm sure they'll be fine," and wandered into the back garden. Remus hovered for a moment longer as James muttered in an agonised voice and chipped ice off the sausages, finally said "Shout if you need a hand," and followed Sirius.

Lily was in the centre of the garden, sprawled on a tartan picnic rug with Harry beside her. Remus could see a cluster of people at the end of the garden, but Sirius was next to Harry and Lily, so he made a beeline for them.

"Remus!" Lily glanced up at him and smiled brightly. Remus thought, not for the first time, that if he fancied girls she'd definitely be his type. Then he banished those thoughts in case James had mastered Legilimency, heard his thoughts, and decided to kill him.

"Hello, Lily," he grinned, and slumped down next to her. "Hello, Harry!" He waved at him.

Harry smiled in response, made a gurgling noise, and swatted at Remus' hand.

"Wave hello," Lily told him. Remus felt a brief moment of confusion and raised his hand to wave again, before Lily grabbed hold of Harry's and waggled it at him.

"Idiot, Moony," Sirius said sunnily from behind him.

Remus reached over and poked him in the stomach, and then turned back to Lily. "So, what's his birthday been like so far?" he asked.

Lily nodded. The sunlight had caught her red hair, and it shone around her face. "It's been great, thanks. Until the arrival of my foul sister, everything's been going wonderfully."

"What's she done?" Sirius said loudly.

"Shh." Lily glanced over at the huddle of people at the end of the garden. "She'll hear you and then she'll kill us all. Her and her astonishingly ugly brat."

"What's his name again?" Remus asked.

"Christ knows." Lily made a face at the afore-mentioned brat. "Uglyface, it should be."

"That's not nice."

"Well, neither's he. Harry's much more handsome, aren't you, darling?" Lily pressed a kiss onto Harry's cheek.

Remus had to agree with her. The blond baby at the end of the garden had gone purple with rage and started to howl. He fought the urge to dash its head against the patio.

"He is, Lil," Sirius said, sitting up and shifting over. "Takes after his godfather, if you ask me."

Lily tried to scowl, but ended up smiling at him. "Shut up, you great prat."

Sirius grinned back at her. "Shut up, yourself."

It was at that point that James ran out of the kitchen holding a bundle of flames and yelling loudly. Lily swore underneath her breath and thrust Harry at Remus. "Watch him for a moment, will you?" She got up and jogged towards James, who'd thrown the flames into a rainwater barrel and was stamping furiously on a smouldering oven glove.

"He's mad," said Sirius flatly.

"Yes," Remus agreed. He'd known it for years, and was somewhat surprised to realise that it was only now that Sirius was realising the full extent of James' insanity. Harry began to crawl towards Remus and onto his lap. A whole year, Remus thought vaguely. A whole year that this creature had been in the world, the little boy who had James' hair and Lily's eyes, who was a product of both but another person entirely. James' son.

It was almost difficult to comprehend, the idea of James being a father. James, who couldn't cook or tame his hair, who'd evidently just set the sausages on fire, who was crap at Potions, had a _son_. It was unthinkable, but Remus thought that he seemed to be doing a good job so far. Harry grabbed onto Remus' collar and giggled madly, so Remus tickled him under the chin until he let go.

He looked up to see Sirius gazing at them with a funny mixture of sadness and pride and something that Remus couldn't quite distinguish. "What is it?" he said softly.

Sirius shook his head, and looked as if he wanted to say something but was unable to do so. "Nothing," he said finally.

For a moment Remus wondered when they'd stopped being able to talk to each other, but was abruptly distracted by Harry kneeing him in the groin.

===

They went home on Sirius' motorcycle the Muggle way, and screeched around corners in a highly dangerous sort of way that made Remus swallow heavily and bury his face in the back of Sirius' jacket.

"You're sure you're all right to drive?" he shouted into Sirius' ear.

"Fine, fine," said Sirius, waving a hand dismissively and nearly veering off the road. Even his jacket smelt of whisky, Remus noted dismally.

"Why wasn't Pete there today?" he asked loudly, over the hum of the motorcycle.

"He was with his girlfriend," Sirius shouted back. "They're on a romantic weekend, or something. Shag shag shag all the time, I suppose. She won't be able to walk when they get home."

Remus winced. "Nice mental pictures there."

Sirius laughed, somewhat wildly. Remus tightened his arms around his waist and prayed for safety.

They were silent until they reached their flat, where the lift was broken – _again_ – so they had to tramp up four flights of stairs. By the fourth flight they were both panting and Remus had to drag a reluctant Sirius up the last few steps by the hand. "Levitate me," he begged, "I'm too tired and drunk to climb any more stairs."

"If you were that drunk," Remus contradicted him, "you'd be refusing to admit you were. Now get a bloody move on!"

By the time they'd reached the flat and Remus had fiddled with the obstinate key for a few minutes, Sirius appeared to have fully recovered his vigour, and was nibbling Remus' earlobe enthusiastically. Remus pushed his head away with the hand that wasn't working at the key. "Get the fuck off me, you mad thing," he laughed quietly, "for God's sake, we're only just legal here, the neighbours'll complain."

"Let them," Sirius said, his voice muffled because his face was pressed into Remus' neck. "I don't care."

"Well, I do." Remus was having a distinct problem trying to convince himself of that, let alone Sirius, who was vigorously molesting him, so he was grateful when the key finally turned and they both fell into the flat. Sirius fell on him immediately, beginning to unbutton his shirt and unbuckle his belt, sucking tiny purple bruises down Remus' chest until Remus shoved him away and began to take off Sirius' shirt. It was just like it always had been, slightly messy but always explosive, and Remus took some comfort in that – maybe things weren't changing quite as much as he feared they were, and —

Sirius crawled back up his body, jabbing fingers into the marks he'd left on Remus' skin. "I've marked you now, see," he said, slightly out of breath. "And you don't need any other marks now, do you? Because you're mine."

His eyes were fiery and angry and sad all of a sudden, and Remus said, "What the hell are you on about?" Sirius still looked heated and disconsolate, so Remus caught hold of his hands and said, "I'm yours. Of course I'm yours, you know I am, I've been yours ever since that first night in fifth year. I always will be. And you'll be mine, too."

"You know I will be," Sirius said vehemently, his fingernails leaving little white ridges on Remus' hands as he squeezed them too tight. "And don't you forget that, Moony, I swear, if you fucking forget…"

Remus frowned up at him. "I won't. Just relax." He tugged a hand through Sirius' knotty hair gently; that usually helped to calm him down, slightly, and Sirius took a deep breath, bowing his head slightly.

"'M sorry, Moony, it's just that—it's just that sometimes I get scared, all right? Sometimes I think that maybe I love you too much, I'd do too much for you." Sirius exhaled, very shakily, and pressed a hand on Remus' cheek.

Remus reached up and grabbed hold of the hand. "I wouldn't ask you to do anything you didn't want to, you know that."

"I know. I know, I really do." Sirius' eyes were still conflicted, but Remus kissed him anyway. When they pulled away from each other, Sirius said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Remus said, trying to smile.

===

The next night, Sirius was home late again. Remus put him to bed and put a bucket next to his head; it was becoming like a routine, a sequence, and when he awoke at five o'clock to hear Sirius retching violently beside him, he thought, is this it? Is this what the stories wrote about? A cycle of late nights and whisky and forgiveness and sex? Is this love?

He knew that he loved Sirius, knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt, had known it, albeit hesitatingly, since that first morning when he'd woken up with Padfoot beside him. He wasn't so sure if Sirius loved him, though. At one point, definitely, at another, probably, but now? He didn't know. Probably, yeah, in a weird, conflicting sort of way that was altogether Sirius, but he didn't know if it was the sort of love that was right, the sort that he should accept.

And then there was the matter of that strange conversation when they'd got home the other night, about marking and ownership and desperation, and Remus was sure he didn't know what the hell that had been about.

The alcohol. Sirius drank to forget, he had once said, and Remus believed him. He almost wished that he could do the same. Life was difficult to believe at the moment, with Lily and James and Harry in constant danger, and the Dark Lord on the rise, and friends and family dropping dead around them. Death was a strange thing, black and endless and pointless, and it was horrible to think of Gideon and Fabian and Marlene trapped in its depths. Even more horrible to think that Remus' closest friends, James or Pete or Lily or, heaven forbid, Sirius, might die at some point. Well, eventually they would do, everyone did, but now?

They were too young, all of them, too vibrant and happy and full of _life_, it was impossible that they could die, he told himself very strictly. He rolled over, and shoved at his pillow, tucking a hand underneath it. Sirius appeared at the doorway, back from the bathroom.

"Feeling better?" Remus asked.

Sirius nodded silently and got into bed beside him.

Remus thought again, is this love? Being woken up by him puking at five in the morning because he's stupid enough to go out and get blisteringly drunk every night? And not minding?__

"Good night," Sirius said softly.

Remus didn't reply.

===

They went to Lily and James' house again the next evening, after work. Peter was there as well. All five of them and Harry crowded into the living room, like old times, but with a baby who kept balancing precariously on one leg and trying to undo people's laces.

After some time, James and Sirius went outside to smoke their foul-smelling roll-ups, and Peter went to make some tea, and Remus found himself alone with Lily in the front room. He'd noticed that she kept looking at him with some concern, green eyes narrowed slightly over Harry's head, who was sitting on her lap and tugging on her necklace.

Finally he said, irritably, "What is it?"

She shrugged. "Nothing, don't worry."

"No," he countered, "you keep looking at me in a really funny way. Like I've done something, or you feel sorry for me. Which is it, then?"

"Neither!" she said, too quickly, and then sighed. "I just… what's up at the moment? With you and Sirius, I mean."

"Nothing," he told her. She raised her eyebrows, and he heard himself laugh. "Really, nothing! You worry too much."

"Maybe," she said doubtfully, "but there's definitely something going on that I don't know about."

"There's nothing," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "Nothing, I promise."

She regarded him for a moment, and then dodged as Harry made for one of her earrings. "Stop it, darling," she said softly to him, and then looked back up at Remus. "I don't believe you," she finally said.

"Well, in that case you're insanely suspicious," Remus said.

"Maybe I am," Lily replied, sounding slightly defeated. "But I still don't believe you."

"Well," Remus said, "there's nothing I can do to make you believe me."

"No," she agreed, "but I hope you know that you can talk to me if you want to."

He reached across and took her hand, squeezing it for a second. "Thanks, Lil. I do appreciate that, you know."

She nodded, still looking slightly worried, but was abruptly distracted by Harry bashing the top of his head against her chin.

Peter came back in. "Sorry, Lily, but I've totally forgotten where the sugar is," he said apologetically.

Lily turned round, and smiled at him. "In the holder above the kettle," she informed him. "If you still can't find it, I'll show you."

"Thanks." Peter disappeared again.

"There _is_ something," Remus confessed, after a pause.

"I knew it," Lily said calmly, and Remus was struck all over again by how different she was from any of his other friends. "Tell me."

Remus took a deep breath. "He's home late every night and he drinks too much even though it makes him chuck up which, let's face it, is just gross, and he smokes during meals and he keeps talking about this girl from the office and he's got really distant and we're always arguing and it's just like a constant round of him getting pissed and then saying sorry and me saying it's okay and I just don't think it's working anymore."

Lily was silent for a moment, and then said, "Oh, _Remus_."

"You think I'm doing something wrong?" Remus said quickly. "Because this is just a rough patch, I know it is, but it's really starting to piss me off."

"You're not doing anything wrong, I promise you that," she said softly. "I just… well, you've heard that they think there's a mole in the Order, haven't you?"

Remus nodded. "Of course, but I don't see how it's connected to — "

"Shut up for a second," she said, strictly. "It's just that, well, James and Sirius think that it's… it's…"

As if on cue, Peter stuck his head around the door again and said, "Lily, I can't see it _anywhere_."

She cast another glance at Remus and then stood. "I'll talk to you later," she said, and Remus could detect a shadow of relief in her voice as she deposited Harry onto the floor. Remus waved dejectedly at the little boy, and then sat down on the floor opposite him as Harry grinned gappily back at him and began to determinedly crawl over to him.

When Sirius and James came back in, talking and laughing loudly, they weren't very surprised when they saw Harry curled up in Remus' lap as he told the little boy a fairytale about two princes from long ago.

===

The next morning when Sirius came into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and fished a plastic bag of tobacco out of his dressing-gown pocket, Remus said sternly, "Don't."

Sirius looked surprised. "Why?"

"I hate it when you smoke at the table. It makes everything taste like ash," Remus told him.

"You never mentioned it before."

"Well, now I have."

Sirius frowned, and slid the bag back into his pocket. "In that case, I'm going out on the balcony for a fag."

"You do that," Remus said tightly, and watched Sirius slope out of the kitchen. He looked faintly ridiculous in the blue dressing-gown; it had been Remus' Christmas present from his mother the year before Harry was born – it was odd how Remus found himself measuring time by such grown-up things, like 'a month before James and Lily got married' or 'a year after we bought the flat' – and Sirius had promptly stolen it because it looked cosy.

Now Remus thought about the way Sirius took his things without asking, and how he finished the cornflakes and put the box back in the cupboard, and how he never cleaned up after himself, and how he always expected Remus to be in a good mood, and how he never emptied out his ashtrays, and how he couldn't cook to save his life, and felt his blood boil.

By the time Sirius came back in, he was in a toweringly bad mood.

Sirius wandered over to the fridge and poured himself a glass of orange juice. It splashed onto the counter, but Sirius didn't bother to clean it up. As he sat down at the table, Remus stood up and began to swab at the juice with a wet cloth.

"What're you doing?" Sirius asked, sounding genuinely bewildered.

"It'll get sticky," Remus told him grimly. "We'll get ants."

"Oh."

Remus sat down again and opened the _Daily Prophet_. He noticed vaguely that Sirius had already taken the most interesting sections, and gritted his teeth. Sirius had started to eat Remus' toast, and as Remus tried to concentrate on an article about a Death Eater raid on Hogsmeade, he could hear crunching noises coming from Sirius' direction.

It was possibly, he thought, the most annoying sound in the world. He couldn't understand how one man could make that much noise when he ate.

Finally, he'd had enough.

He stood again, and said, "I'm going to read the paper in the living room."

Sirius turned dark blue eyes up at him and said, "If you want."

He could feel those dark eyes trained on his back as he left the kitchen.

===

Two nights later, Padfoot, Prongs and Moony roamed wild on the nearest moors. It was just the same as normal, except that Wormtail wasn't there; it was his anniversary with his girlfriend, and they all agreed that she should take preference over Moony. After all, they said, there'd be a lifetime of full moons, but only one anniversary.

Moony's wolfish mind felt secure in the company of the elegant stag and gambolling dog; when he woke, although he was in pain, Remus felt strangely calm and relaxed. Sirius was sitting on the side of the ramshackle bed they'd put up in an old hut, running his fingers gently over Remus' left forearm in a soft, tickling, comforting sort of way, and James was standing at the window, hands braced on the windowsill, his silhouette lean and dark.

"Morning," Remus said sleepily.

Sirius dropped his arm quickly. Still, Remus thought drowsily, still Sirius was afraid of showing affection towards him in front of James. It was silly, really, after all these years.

"How're you feeling?" James bounded over to the bed, his face a picture of concern.

"Good, thanks." Remus began to push himself up onto his elbows, feeling his head spin slightly as he did so. Sirius watched him silently, eyes unfathomable pits, and only offered a flicker of a grin when Remus smiled warmly at him.

Remus took a deep breath to stop himself from going dizzy. "What was last night like?"

"Fine," James said airily. "Not much different from normal, really. Although you did kill a rabbit."

"Well, well," Remus mused, surveying his hands. They weren't too scratched, but were traced with very thin pinkish lines where the wolf had gone tramping through brambles. His muscles were screaming, of course, but it was no comparison to what he'd gone through before his friends had become Animagi.

Later that morning, James drove them back to London very carefully in Lily's small red Mini. Remus sat in the front seat next to him, feeling slightly nauseous, and Padfoot curled up sulkily in the back seat and went to sleep.

"What's up with him lately?" James said in a loud whisper, gesturing at Padfoot and nearly veering off the road.

Remus closed his eyes until James had righted the car, and finally said, "I don't know. He'll be fine once all the danger's gone."

"Yeah, but when's that going to be?" James said, eyes fixed carefully on the road.

Remus leaned his head back onto the headrest. "I have no idea. Hopefully soon."

James glanced sideways at him. "Is there anything going on between you two?" His voice sounded troubled but warm.

"What, like an argument?"

"Yeah."

Remus thought of Sirius' cold blue eyes and said, simply, "I don't think he loves me anymore."

James spluttered and nearly swerved off the road again. "What?"

Remus smiled absently. All of a sudden he felt thoroughly parted from the situation, as if he was a casual observer looking in on the life that he shared with Sirius. "I don't think he loves me anymore," he said vaguely. "It doesn't matter, though. We'll stay together until one of us kicks the other out, and I don't think that's going to be happening any time soon." He sighed. "I don't think he cares, really, not any more."

James said, "Remus. Of course he cares. He's _Sirius_."

Remus said, "So what?"

And no matter how hard he listened for one, James didn't seem to be able to make an answer.

===

"We're considering a Fidelius charm," Lily said, with a careful look at James. "To keep our location a secret, at least until the risk's gone. It'll be a big step but we think it's the only way to keep safe."

James nodded. Remus noticed that at some point his hand had sneaked over to rest on Lily's. "We need a Secret-Keeper, the only person who could reveal our location. And so long as the Secret-Keeper keeps the secret, we'll be safe." He sighed. "Obviously it's going to be one of you lot, isn't it? After Diana dying — " Lily winced at the memory of her best friend's death " — you're basically the people we love and trust most in the world, as much as I hate to admit it." He smiled grimly.

Peter's face was pale and drawn. "My God, are you sure that you really want to go to these lengths?"

"It's not for us," Lily said, "it's for Harry." She cast a glance over at her son, who was sitting in front of the fireplace, intent on banging a building block with a rubber hammer. "You've got to understand that the most important thing is keeping him safe. Once you've got a baby everything changes. We can't take any more chances. We want to be around to watch him grow up; for heaven's sake, we've got to make sure he grows up at all." She rubbed a hand tiredly over her forehead. "We're going to put the charm into place probably mid to late October; it has to be in place by Hallowe'en, that's the night the Death Eaters like to cause real havoc."

Sirius let out a long breath. "Well, if you're sure, you two."

"We've discussed it," said James, "and we are."

He didn't look like James anymore, Remus thought with a sudden pang, realising all of a sudden that he didn't know this man at all, with his steady hazel eyes and too-lined face and pretty wife, that he no longer bore any resemblance to the carefree James Potter that he'd known during school. Remus wondered for a moment if they thought the same of him, that he'd changed beyond almost all recognition and practically become another person entirely.

Next to Remus, Sirius stood up abruptly and caught James in a clumsy hug that involved a lot of embarrassed backslapping. He muttered something that Remus didn't catch into James' ear, who nodded vigorously as they pulled away from each other.

Remus felt his stomach twist suddenly, and thought, this is all changing too quickly. They were growing up, all of them, James and Lily drawing into each other and their son, and Peter spending all of his time with his girlfriend, and Sirius getting more and more abrupt and passionate in turns, and Remus was left behind, somehow.

He forced a smile onto his face, though, and said, "That's a great idea, Lily," and kissed her on the cheek, still with that horrible leaden sensation in his stomach that meant that _nothing_ was great, really, and he wasn't expecting that to change for a long time.

===

Later that night, Remus and Sirius stood on their balcony and gazed into the sky. Somehow they seemed to have regained some of the old easiness between them with the wine they'd downed at the Potters' and the evening of what had mostly been pleasant, nostalgic, sepia-tinted conversation.

It had been particularly cloudless recently, the sky a deep inky colour instead of musty grey or brown, and they could see the stars, little pinpricks of light surrounding the half-full moon. Suddenly Remus gasped as Sirius slipped his hands over his eyes.

"Don't do that, you prat," he muttered, trying to elbow Sirius, but he somehow managed to stay out of the way, and Remus could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "Stay still."

His body was pressed almost flat against Remus', who let himself relax into it, feeling the hard planes of Sirius' chest against his back.

"Okay, I'm going to uncover your eyes in a second and you're going to look up, and pick out the first star you see. And then you'll make a wish," Sirius murmured into Remus' ear. "Say the rhyme."

"Star light," said Remus softly, suddenly caught up in what felt like a fairytale, "star bright, first star I see tonight, wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight."

Sirius let go of him, and he immediately squinted up into the sky, seizing on the first star he saw, and thought, let us be okay. Let us live through this. Let him keep loving me.

He looked down for a moment and then looked up again, to see if the star had flickered in the way that meant it had granted his wish, and smiled to see that it had.

"Did you make one?" he asked Sirius.

"Oh, yeah."

"What was it?"

"If I tell you it won't come true, will it?" Sirius was smiling, his teeth white as a wolf's in the moonlight.

"Did your star flicker?"

Sirius shrugged. "I didn't look."

"Why not?" Remus frowned.

"In case it hadn't," Sirius said grimly. "Listen, I'm going inside, all right? It's getting cold."

In Remus' opinion it wasn't, and he was the one who usually felt the cold, but he nodded docilely anyway. "I'm going to stay out for another few minutes."

"Suit yourself." Sirius turned away, disappearing into the flat. Remus felt himself shiver, and stuck his hands in his pockets. He didn't realise how long he'd spent outside until he entered their bedroom forty-five minutes later to see Sirius sprawled on the bed and soundly asleep, bare-chested, the white sheets that were draped over his hips just about keeping him decent.

For a moment, Remus considered stripping off and getting in beside him. Instead, he decided to sleep on the couch.

===

The next couple of months continued in much the same vein. Sirius came back late and drunk most nights, and after a while Remus stopped waiting up for him. It was okay, sort of, seeing him first thing in the morning twitching at not smoking and going outside onto the balcony, and not curling up to him in bed at night, and not talking or laughing or kissing.

Really, it was fine, and probably for the best. They hadn't talked about it, but over the months they'd drifted apart somehow. Every time Remus opened his mouth to say something it sounded false, and Sirius seemed to have decided not to speak at all. In late September, he told Remus gruffly that Lily and James had begun to make the preparations for the Fidelius Charm, and said no more about it until he arrived home surprisingly early at half past seven on the thirtieth of October.

"We've done it," he said, slinging his jacket onto a chair. "It's all done."

Remus raised his head. It was the first time that he'd talked properly to Sirius in days. "What is?"

"The Fidelius Charm. They've gone into hiding." Sirius sat down heavily on the armchair opposite Remus, swiping a tired hand across his forehead. "It's done," he repeated, as if to himself.

"Good," Remus nodded. "Great."

"Yeah, it's a relief," Sirius agreed, and then fell silent. Remus gazed at him for a couple more seconds, and continued to read.

He could feel Sirius' eyes on him, and finally said, still gazing at his book, "_What_?"

There was a catch in Sirius' voice when he said, "I miss us."

Remus looked up. Sirius was twisting a paper tissue in his hands, fingers brown against the white, and for a moment he remembered what those hands felt like against his skin. "I miss us too," he finally ventured.

Sirius nodded, dipping his head down, and swallowed. "I know this is all fucked up, Moony," he said to his chest, "but we've got to stick together, right?"

"Right," Remus agreed quickly. "Of course we do."

"Mm-hm." Sirius began to shred the tissue absent-mindedly, stacking all the pieces together in a neat pile. "I do love you, you know," he said abruptly after a moment. "I know I've been – well, distant – recently, but I do love you."

"I know," Remus said, his voice coming out foreign and husky. He coughed to clear his throat, and repeated, "I know you do."

Sirius nodded. "Good," he said, in a very quiet voice, and then, more loudly, "It's me, I'm their Secret-Keeper, you know."

"Lily and James'?" Remus asked. Of course it was Sirius, there had never really been a choice. The bravest of them, the most loyal, the one who loved so deeply and madly that he'd never been able to extricate himself from anyone or anything.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "I'm their Secret-Keeper."

"Right," Remus said, eyeing Sirius. He seemed to be breathing erratically and he'd started shredding the pieces of tissue into even smaller fragments. "Well, good luck with that," he said finally, feebly.

"Thanks." In one jerky, convulsive movement, Sirius had moved over to the space on the sofa next to Remus, and had grabbed hold of his hand, holding it far too tight. Remus felt a wave of shock at the sudden contact, and a sort of relief flowed over him as he shifted slightly to face the other man. "I really have missed you, Moony," Sirius whispered, his eyes impossibly blue, and kissed him.

It was as clumsy and imperfect as the first time, but Remus couldn't bring himself to mind; he felt as though he was drowning in the touch and taste of Sirius, as if he'd been in withdrawal from him for the last couple of months and he was finally getting his reward.

"I've missed you too," Remus muttered as they pulled away from each other, and realised that he'd never known how true that was until then.

"Of course you did," Sirius said, face breaking out into a brilliant smile, and began very carefully to unbutton Remus' shirt. "I'd miss me too."

Remus laughed and swatted at the side of Sirius' messy black head. "Prat."

"Wanker," Sirius replied laughingly as Remus undid the zip on his jeans. His breath hitched suddenly as Remus' hand closed around him and he muttered, "Oh, _fuck_, Moony…"

"Mmhm," Remus replied, muffled, as he pushed Sirius backwards, suddenly desperate to get at him. Sirius' expression turned from a grin to one of shock as he overbalanced and toppled off the sofa onto the floor. Remus felt himself falling after him, and landed squarely on Sirius' stomach.

"Way to break the mood, Moony," he muttered, raising a sceptical eyebrow at Remus.

"Shut up," Remus said, and kissed him again.

===

The next day was Hallowe'en, so the Aurors were on red alert. Sirius refused to leave the fire in the front room in case someone stuck their head into it, saying that he was needed, so Remus sat with him and plied him with tea and biscuits despite the fact that Sirius kept saying he wasn't hungry.

At half past six the next morning, after a sleepless and worried night, Sirius realised with a roar of frustration that he'd run out of cigarette papers, and stormed down to the local corner shop after kissing Remus hard on the cheek and saying he'd be back soon.

When he wasn't back by nine, Remus began to worry.

When the Daily Prophet slid through the door at eleven, saying that James and Lily were dead, betrayed, and that Sirius Black had been arrested early that morning for breaking their Fidelius Charm and killing Peter and blowing up a street full of Muggles, Remus thought dimly that he should have realised before.

There was a picture of Sirius, laughing wildly, the whites of his eyes showing, wearing the same robes that Remus had made him change into only a few hours before, and he thought calmly, well, that's that, then.

Then he threw a teapot at the wall and burst into tears.

===

The next few months dragged on as if they were years. Harry had survived, somehow, and was sent to live with his aunt and uncle. Remus thought half-heartedly of making a claim for the boy, but then thought that there was no way he'd be allowed to live with a gay werewolf, and decided that he'd be better off in a more secure environment.

Remus survived, just about, although he didn't know how. He put out Sirius' clothes in black bin-bags for the rubbish collectors to pick up, and dropped the big motorbike off at a Muggle dealership, after carefully removing all the charms on it. No more flying on a motorcycle for _him_. It had been a brainless, dangerous idea anyway, and he certainly didn't miss clinging to Sirius with the wind rushing through his hair.

After six months it became easier to bear. He talked to Dumbledore, and apparently the pain of loss and betrayal never truly went away; you just had to learn how to cope with it and live without them.

He thought of how stupid he'd been and how obvious Sirius had been and how he should have realised, of Sirius' pale face the night before Hallowe'en and his shaking fingers, of how stilted and strange it had all been, and thought, of course. It had been obvious. The drinking, the coldness, the drawing away, that one last night before Hallowe'en that had been full of heat and memories and sex and what he'd thought at the time was love, but now he thought back could not possibly have been.

After a year, it got even easier. He laughed, sometimes, when he talked to Andromeda and played with her daughter, and sometimes went to visit Alastor Moody to talk of the Order in old times. And He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was gone, now, disappeared, because of the great love that Lily had had for Harry.

(That great love that had been extinguished, now, because she was dead, but he tried not to think like that.)

He tore up old photos and determinedly did not think of the past. He moved from job to job and survived, just about, with a few more wrinkles and patches on his robes. He kept a single, tattered photo of James and Lily and Harry and Peter in his wallet and mourned them by day and did not think of Sirius except at night, when his dreams were all too vivid and he woke up painfully alone.

Try as he might, he couldn't stop loving Sirius Black, despite all he'd done. And he hated himself for it.

* * *

TBC.


End file.
